


Can't lose you

by fictionallemons



Series: Two spies in love [1]
Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Benji tops, Blow Jobs, Ethan bottoms, Feelings, First Dates, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, International Spy Museum, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Non-Graphic Violence, Porn with Feelings, Post-Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation (2015), Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-20 20:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9513737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionallemons/pseuds/fictionallemons
Summary: There was no way that someone as perceptive as Ethan couldn’t tell that Benji was head over heels for him. But Ethan had never let it get weird. And Benji was grateful, even if working, and sometimes living, in such close proximity to him sometimes got…frustrating.





	1. Can't lose you

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd. Hope you enjoy! Probably going to post a second chapter eventually.

Benji had absolutely no intention of getting kidnapped again, not after the near-disaster that was London, so when the thug they were trailing had doubled back and strong armed him, it was second nature to use every weapon at his disposal, including the knife he’d had hidden in the top of leather high tops. When Ethan had come running, Benji was doubled over in the alley, breathing heavily, the adrenaline of the chase and ending someone else’s life coursing through his body. The thug was on the pavement.

“Jesus, Benji.” Ethan sped over, ignoring the body, his hands gripping Benji’s shoulders, pulling him upright. Benji felt the warm, wet stickiness of blood clinging to his skin, his clothes, and he knew Ethan could feel it too. Ethan’s hands were strong and sure as he ran them methodically over Benji’s body, looking for wounds.

“It’s not mine.” Benji tried to pull away, but Ethan wouldn’t let him as he continued his inventory. “Ethan, it’s not mine. I hit an artery. There was a lot of, um, spray.”

“Okay,” Ethan said. “Did you get the key?”

Benji held up the metal key and Ethan grinned. 

“Let’s get out of here.” 

***  
The safe house was in a rundown part of the city, where someone whose black hoodie was liberally soaked with blood wouldn’t be remarked upon, but Ethan still insisted that Benji take his own jacket for the short walk. Now that they had the key, they had a few hours to kill until their ride to Venice picked them up.

Benji was still high on adrenaline and he fidgeted, practically jumping up and down while he waited for Ethan to unlock the door to their place. He’d started thinking of it as their place a few hours after they’d arrived, and Ethan had brought home coffee and pastries from the market and the simple one bedroom flat had started to seem almost homey. He liked those times, the quiet, almost domestic interludes they had sometimes on assignment. When Ethan was relaxed and joked and cooked, and Benji could appreciate the fact that even though he was in love with his partner and best friend, Ethan was generous enough not to let it stand in the way of their working together. Because he’d known since London, since he’d sat across from Ethan with a bomb strapped to his body and his heart in his eyes, that there was no way that someone as perceptive as Ethan couldn’t tell that Benji was head over heels for him. But Ethan had never let it get weird. And Benji was grateful, even if working, and sometimes living, in such close proximity to him sometimes got…frustrating.

They’d been in that safe house in Turkey, the two of them, for four days, missing one connection after another until finally they’d gotten lucky. Benji frowned. He hated the violence that sometimes came with his job. A man was dead. Not a very nice man. But a human being nonetheless. And Benji had killed him.

Their place didn’t smell like coffee and pastry anymore. It smelled like stale beer and the metallic tang of blood. He needed a shower and a few hours of sleep. Carefully, he peeled off Ethan’s jacket and handed it over.

“Thanks.” Ethan was silent, just holding onto his jacket and staring at him, so Benji figured he’d just get cleaned up. “I’m going to—“ he gestured to the tiny bathroom with its pathetically low-pressure shower.

“Sure,” Ethan said, still staring. Benji loved his eyes, how they saw everything and gave away nothing. Well, not nothing. Benji had learned when Ethan was stressed his eyes got a bit hooded, and when he was happy they tended to crinkle at the edges. Sometimes Benji would do the stupidest stuff just to get Ethan to crack a smile and soften those big brown eyes.

“Everything all right, Ethan?”

“Yeah, yeah. You just—you did good tonight. But you scared me. When I saw all that blood—“

Benji furrowed his brow. Ethan didn’t often admit to emotions as plebian as being frightened.

“I’m all right. Honestly.” He was a bit sore, and he needed a wash, but he’d been through worse, and Ethan knew it.

“Of course.” Ethan frowned and turned away. “I’ll check on our ride.”

It took forever in the tepid trickle that came out of the showerhead, but Benji finally washed away the blood, finally felt clean again. He was in the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, when he felt the twinge on his shoulder blade. It was a shallow, long cut. He hadn’t noticed it until that moment. It would need antibiotic cream and maybe a strip of gauze, but it was just out of his reach.

Fuck. He’d need Ethan to see to it, and he didn’t relish being in such close contact with his friend. Actually, he did relish it, but he was so careful to avoid anything that could be construed as him taking advantage of their friendship. Still, this was medical. No big deal.

He found Ethan in the bedroom and held up the supplies. “Sorry, mate, I can’t reach it.”

Ethan frowned. “You’re hurt. Why didn’t you say something? How did this happen?” He sounded angry.

Benji huffed out a laugh. “Must have happened in the fight. He had a knife, too, you know. And it’s nothing. But I don’t fancy kicking off early because of blood poisoning, so if you could just disinfect it for me, that would be grand.”

Ethan was just as methodical with the ointment and gauze as he was with everything. Benji perched on the edge of the bed and avoided thinking about how carefully Ethan’s fingers moved over his skin. He ordered his brain to start thinking about anything else than the feeling of Ethan’s skin on his, but his brain refused to listen. And then Ethan’s fingers moved away, and Benji could breathe again. And then they were back. Ethan hands, Benji’s back. Ethan started massaging, avoiding his cut, of course, but kneading into the taut, strained muscles of his back.

“What—“

“You’re so tense. Let me help.”

Benji swallowed. He couldn’t see Ethan from his position on the bed. But he could hear him breathing. He could smell his familiar, Ethan smell—Old Spice and danger. And he could feel him, the heat from his hands transferring to Benji. He rolled his neck to the side, and couldn’t help letting out a groan of pleasure. He hadn’t been touched this way in a long time. It was ten times better knowing it was Ethan touching him, with uncharacteristic gentleness from someone so strong. He felt incredibly safe, since the man behind him was the only man he trusted with his life, and had more than once.

“You know I can’t lose you, right?” Ethan’s voice, rough with some undercurrent of emotion, jerked Benji out of his thoughts.

Benji twisted, so he could see Ethan’s face. His eyes were in serious mode. Stoic. He knew Ethan would do just about anything for him. Sometimes he wondered what he’d done to inspire such loyalty.

“You’ll never lose, me, Ethan.” That much was the truth. It was easy to say. Easier than explaining exactly why. The why didn’t matter.

Then Benji’s brain short circuited as Ethan, almost in slow motion, knelt beside him on the bed, ran his hand over Benji’s shoulder, up the side of his neck, cupped his face in his palm, and leaned over to kiss him.

Ethan Hunt was kissing him. He was too shocked to pull away. His body took over, and every suppressed urge, every desire denied, came bobbing to the surface, and his mouth opened under Ethan’s perfect lips. The kiss turned from tentative to hungry in a split second. Benji didn’t question why, he didn’t make any conscious decisions, he didn’t think at all. He just felt, and he felt bloody fantastic. And he felt that Ethan needed this, wanted this as much as he did. He’d think about that later. For now, he just wanted Ethan’s mouth, he wanted Ethan’s body. And Ethan, as if reading his mind, seemed to give him both, willingly, eagerly.

They tangled on the bed, sharing frantic, messy kisses that felt like they were both drowning and only the other had air. Ethan was still dressed; Benji had only the thin towel covering his growing erection. Ethan stopped kissing him to whip off his t-shirt, and then their chests rubbed together, skin to skin, and Benji thought he was going to die with pleasure. 

He reached for Ethan’s waistband, but Ethan got there first, pulling open his belt buckle. The rustle of metal and the click of a zipper had never held so much promise. In seconds, Ethan was clad only in black boxer briefs that clung to his thighs and molded around his erection. Benji’s mouth went dry. This was happening. He was touching Ethan. He was going to see Ethan’s—again, the other man seemed to be a mind reader, because he slowly pulled down the briefs, his impressively thick cock jutting out proudly. And then Benji reciprocated, loosening the towel around his waist. He had nothing to be ashamed of in this department, either. 

Ethan’s hand wrapped around Benji’s cock, and he felt electricity shoot up his spine. They didn’t pause for lube or discussions about safety. Benji was clean and he couldn’t imagine Ethan not being meticulous about this, if not for himself, than for Benji. Ethan would never willingly put Benji in harm’s way.

Benji wrapped his own hand around Ethan’s beautiful cock, and they jerked each other, slowly, while their tongues met and tangled again. They kissed each other breathless, as if they might never have another chance, and Benji felt the stirrings of his orgasm come all too quickly. There was so much he wanted to do, so much he’d fantasized about in moments of weakness, late at night, when the adrenaline rush of a field assignment was over and all he had was time to think about the man he could never have. Only now, it seemed, he was having him. But this might be the one and only time. He had to show Ethan how much he wanted him, wanted this, if only because in this he had to be honest. He broke the kiss, and moved Ethan’s hand away, scooting down the bed, taking Ethan’s cock into his mouth, his hands settling on Ethan’s hips. He sucked and laved and worshiped with his mouth and tongue. Ethan groaned, one of his hands grasping the sheets for purchase, the other tangling in Benji’s short hair. Ethan smelled and tasted so fucking good, Benji could have sucked him all night, but he felt Ethan’s hand tighten in his hair, he heard him groan again, heard him whisper his name. He was going to come and Benji had every intention of swallowing every drop.

“Benji,” Ethan said again. “Fuck. God. I’m going to—“ And then he was coming, great spurts of thick come that hit Benji in the back of the throat, but he took it all, letting it slide down, and then he swallowed around Ethan’s cock, and he slid off, his own cock impossibly hard. Ethan, naturally, had the stamina even in his post-orgasmic state to stroke him, the precum that had been steadily leaking serving as enough lubrication, and soon Benji was spilling into Ethan’s hand, while shouting into his mouth through their kisses.

He didn’t know why it had happened, or what it meant, but he felt fucking fantastic, and he fell asleep, naked, next to Ethan, with a smile on his face.


	2. Just two spys hanging out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan and Benji hang out.

After Turkey, there was Venice, which led them to Dublin. There hadn’t been much time for talking, and Ethan had been acting like everything was business as usual. Which it was. Except for the touching. The slightly too long clasp of Benji’s shoulder before going their separate ways on a mission, the brush of a finger against Benji’s hand when handing off an earpiece or gun. 

If he weren’t absolutely sure the night spent rubbing against each other in the Turkish safe house had been real, those touches would have convinced him. They’d crossed a line, and they couldn’t uncross it. And Benji thought he was fine with that, if that was all it was, since it didn’t seem to be affecting their ability to do their jobs. They still functioned as a team. They got the job done. Sometimes it was messy. Sometimes it was nail-bitingly close. But they always got the job done.

Which was why they were on their way back to D.C. to debrief and take a break after successfully cracking the smuggling ring they’d been tracking for weeks. Benji collapsed in his tiny studio apartment after eight hours of paperwork and grilling by the Secretary on the finer points of the operation. He wanted to crawl into his bed and sleep for a week. He managed to get eight hours before the buzzing on his phone penetrated his consciousness. He’d been deep in REM sleep, dreaming with vivid clarity. In his dream there had been snow, falling steadily, but he was inside, warm and cozy in front of a fire. Ethan had been there, too, stretched out in front of the fire, looking at him with those piercing eyes that seemed to see everything. They hadn’t been talking or touching, just together. It felt good, and Benji had been about to lean over and kiss the beautiful, dangerous man next to him, when the phone had zapped him back to real life.

It was a message from Ethan himself. Benji couldn’t help the lopsided smile that affixed itself to his face as he read. There was no one around to see how contact from Ethan made him get all melty.

_Still sleeping?_

_Not anymore, ta very much._

_It’s a beautiful day. Would be a shame to sleep through it._

Benji slid out of bed and opened the blinds on the only window in his shoebox of an apartment. The district was experiencing one of those perfect spring days. Warm, but not muggy. A light breeze that made the iconic cherry blossoms float around like so many delicate butterflies. The sky was a robin’s egg blue and the sun had sharpened everything so it looked bright and clean. Or maybe that was just Benji’s good mood. If he had to be awake, at least he was texting with his favorite person on the planet.

Maybe it was the promise of the gorgeous spring day. Maybe it was his dream. Maybe it was something else. But Benji felt bold.

_Got any ideas on how to enjoy it?_

The return message came almost instantaneously, as if Ethan was poised at the keyboard waiting for Benji to respond.

_I’ve got a few. Meet me at 9th and F Street in an hour._

_All right. Bring coffee._

\--- 

“Seriously? The International Spy Museum?” Benji stared at the building he’d met Ethan in front of.

“I’ve never been. It’ll be fun.” Ethan handed Benji the tiniest coffee cup Benji had ever seen.

“What’s this?” Benji asked suspiciously.

“Triple espresso. They don’t allow food or drink inside, so down it and we’ll go.”

Benji sipped the smooth, strong drink. He didn’t need more stimulation, now that he was in Ethan’s electric presence, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt. He studied Ethan as he finished the drink. He was dressed casually, jeans, sneakers, an unbuttoned oxford shirt over a plain white tee. He looked gorgeous as always. Benji swallowed the last of the coffee, pushing away the memory of Ethan’s body under his hands, his cock in his mouth. They hadn’t talked about it, and Benji was not going to be the one who brought it up.

“Finished?” Ethan held Benji’s gaze easily. Benji couldn’t quite figure him out. They’d spent the last six weeks together overseas. They’d been on break for exactly twelve hours and here they were again. Together. Ethan seemed to actually want to spend his off hours with Benji. And he knew that if he hadn’t been here with Ethan, he’d be in his suffocatingly small apartment burning through the latest version of Halo. Alone.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Then let’s go.” Ethan held out a hand, and Benji stared at it. Was he seriously inviting Benji to take his hand and walk into the museum holding hands like some courting couple? They weren’t a couple. Were they?

Benji swallowed, his mouth full of the bitter aftertaste of the espresso. Then he bunted, handing Ethan the empty coffee cup. Ethan smiled faintly, but didn’t miss a beat as he tossed the cup into the nearest trashcan and jogged up the stairs to the entrance. Benji cursed himself for a fool. He was probably reading everything all wrong. They were just friends. Bros. Bro friends from work, who were spending a day off…hanging out. At a museum. Like bros do. And that one time that they had sex, that was just a fluke.

He shook his head and followed Ethan in.

They spent an hour poking around and joking about the spy gear and stories that the museum showcased. Ethan was funny and told stories, most of which Benji had never heard before, about his early days in the IMF, when the tech was light years more primitive than what they had now. Ethan was only five years older than Benji, but he’d been in the field so much longer. Benji had knocked around MI5 as an analyst for years before being recruited to the IMF. There was no doubt about it, Ethan had more lives than a cat. And Benji was glad. The fact that the man standing beside him, telling him a story about Paris and explosive gum, was virtually indestructible, was immensely comforting.

“Let’s get some lunch,” Ethan said a little while later. “You like tapas?”

The booth at Jaleo was semi-private. The lunch rush was over and the restaurant seemed subdued and intimate. They ordered too much food, and shared a bottle of Tempranillo. It was Benji’s turn to tell stories, and he considered it a personal victory every time he got Ethan to burst out laughing at one of his field misadventures. He loved Ethan’s laugh, and the way his even white teeth gleamed when he smiled, open and free. Ethan didn’t smile a lot when they were on a mission. He was too focused, too aware of the consequences of not taking things seriously. But Benji loved his smile. He was getting drunk off that smile. Or maybe it was the wine. Or maybe it was because for the past thirty minutes Ethan’s thigh had been pressed against his, and it hadn’t budged an inch. They were way past typical bro behavior and as Benji took a sip of water to clear his head, something occurred to him. Something that seemed obvious now, but hadn’t been explicitly stated. He decided to forget his pledge to not mention the unspoken stuff between them.

“Ethan, is this a date?” He blurted it out without thinking, without modulating his tone, and he immediately started coloring red when he realized the diners around them had heard him loud and clear.

Ethan chuckled softly. “I knew you’d catch on sooner or later.”

“I thought—after Turkey—”

Ethan sighed. “Yeah, I know we never got to talk. I’m sorry about that. There never seemed like a good moment.”

“What was that night about, Ethan?” Benji spoke softly, gently. He wanted answers, but was a little afraid of what they might be.

Ethan took a minute to respond. “It was about me not being able to hold back from showing you how I feel. From keeping myself from giving comfort and pleasure to someone who means the world to me. It was about me hoping that what I saw in your eyes that night, what I’d seen there in London, and in Morocco, was really there, and not just a figment of my imagination. I should have talked to you before acting, I should have asked before taking, but I was just so—tired. And I needed you.”

“You needed me?” Benji thought he must have gotten it backward. Benji was the one who needed Ethan, to lead him, to encourage him, to push him to be a better agent, a better man. How could Ethan possibly need him as much as he needed Ethan?

“I need you,” Ethan said quietly. “Isn’t I clear that I’m crazy about you?”

Benji was baffled. “Why?”

Ethan laughed again, flashing those beautiful teeth. “You want a list? Okay. You make me laugh. You never let me down. You look sexy in glasses and a tuxedo. You love opera as much as you love video games. You believe in me. You make me feel…good. Whenever I’m with you. I feel like I can relax, be myself. And I know that…feeling the way I do about you puts you in danger. I’ve been there before. And I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again. Not to someone I love. But you knew what you were getting into when you became a field agent, and I figure that you know the risks that even being on my team entails, so if I can protect you best by keeping you close to me, then that’s what I’ll do. And if keeping you close to me means that we can be together as more than partners, more than friends, then I’m one hundred percent certain that life is too short not to make that happen.”

Ethan stopped talking and blinked, as if he hadn’t been prepared to make that speech, and now that it was out there, he couldn’t take it back. Benji let out the breath he’d been holding. He could read between the lines, but he had to make sure.

“Someone you…love?” Benji licked his lips nervously.

“Yes, dammit. Is that really such a surprise?” Ethan’s smile was gone and his intense look was back. As much as Benji loved the smile, that intense stare, directed at him, did things to his insides. Like melted them into a puddle of delicious wanting. “I’m in love with you, Benji Dunn. And I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say it, but now I’m saying it, so if you could just put me out of my misery here—“

“I love you, too. I’m in love with you, Ethan Hunt.” Benji said quietly. “And I’ll gladly make a list of all the reasons that it’s so, but I think we should go back to my place before I drag you to the bathroom and suck your brains out through your cock.”

“Check, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to come that will basically just be smut.


	3. Two of us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their love confession, they go back to Benji's place and do...stuff.

Benji didn’t have time to be embarrassed by his minuscule apartment because the moment they stepped through the door, Ethan attacked him. With kisses. Benji found himself backed up against the front door, Ethan’s body pressed against his, aggressive, territorial, and gentle all at once.

This was Ethan in focused mode: intent on one thing, to make Benji implode with desire. His hands were everywhere, while his mouth never strayed from Benji’s. The kiss went on and on and on, until Benji started to feel lightheaded and broke away.

“Jesus, man, I know you can hold your breath for a very long time, but some of us need oxygen once in a while.”

Ethan chuckled, and moved his mouth to Benji’s neck. Benji got his breathing under control and started participating in the proceedings instead of just being the recipient of Ethan’s insistent, effective onslaught of seductive touches. He cupped the bulge in Ethan’s jeans, then found an earlobe to suck on. They kissed and sucked and rubbed against one another for a while, finding a rhythm. They had so much to explore, so much ground to cover, but this encounter, like the one in Turkey, felt like it was on borrowed time and they needed to finish before something like an assassin or a bomb or the next threat to civilization as they knew it got in the way.

But no. They had time. They had hours, days, even. The world could explode for all Benji cared. He wasn’t letting Ethan leave his bed until he’d had his fill of him, and that could take a very long time indeed.

He shifted and pushed Ethan toward the bed. Ethan, while initially the instigator, seemed happy for Benji to take over a bit, and sat obediently on the bed when Benji pushed him down on it. He smiled, the creases around his eyes deep, the expression in his light eyes warm. Benji felt his heart swell in his chest. He had Ethan in his bed, he had Ethan’s love. He was the luckiest bastard alive, and he knew it. He dropped to the floor, between Ethan’s spread knees. He grabbed Ethan in a bear hug, just holding on, just clinging, and Ethan clung back. They stayed like that, heartbeat to heartbeat, for a long moment. Benji wanted to memorize the feeling of having this vital, alive man in his arms, because he knew that they would not always have the luxury of being physically together whenever they wished.  
After a minute, the tidal wave of emotion receded, and Benji remembered the desperate fierceness with which he desired the man in his arms. He kissed Ethan, softly, on the lips. Ethan deepened the kiss, and soon they were rolling around on the bed, shedding layers of clothing, kissing and groping every inch they could reach, laughing when Benji had trouble removing one of his sneakers, heedless of the crash of the lamp by the bedside table when Ethan elbowed it accidently. They were sweaty and close, both thoroughly aroused, naked, and Benji knew what he wanted to do, but they hadn’t had that talk yet.

“Um, so, do you like…I mean, do you have a preference…?” he started, not sure why he was being so awkward.

“I want to do everything with you,” Ethan said. “But, generally, I bottom.”

“Oh.” Benji swallowed. “That’s—"

“Is that okay?” Ethan looked concerned and brushed a hand over Benji’s stubbled cheek.

“It’s perfect,” Benji declared. He’d been dying to have his cock inside Ethan for hours, days, weeks, months. Forever.

They went slow, Benji digging into his seldom-used stash of lube and condoms.

“You know we don’t need condoms, right?” Ethan said. “We’re both clean.”

“Yeah, I know. But—" Benji didn’t know how to say that he was afraid that being inside Ethan, bare, might be the death of him. But Ethan seemed to understand. 

“It’s okay. We’ll do it another time.”

Benji nodded, suddenly overwhelmed again, but emotion, by love, by sheer happiness. He fought the sting of tears. He was a goddamn IMF field agent. He didn’t cry during sex.

“Benji, look at me,” Ethan said. He instinctively did as he was told. Ethan stared at him, and laced their hands together. “We don’t ever have to do anything you don’t want to do. When I said I wanted to do everything—“

“I love you so bloody much.” Benji blurted out. “I just want you to know that. No matter what. You’ll always have that.”

Ethan was silent for a beat. “I know it. I’m not going anywhere. We’re not going anywhere.”

Benji knew that Ethan couldn’t really promise that. But then again, it was Ethan. He routinely did the impossible. Benji nodded. Swallowed. “Doing everything with you sounds just about perfect. Now turn over, you gorgeous bastard.”

Ethan grinned and complied, slowly, in order to show off his muscled, fit body. Benji’s arousal flooded back, and he switched gears, going from loving to filthy in the blink of eye. He grabbed Ethan’s firm ass cheeks, massaging and teasing, running a finger along the seam, hovering lightly over the hole until Ethan was squirming and begging for more. He adjusted himself on the bed, finding a position from which he could support himself and still hold Ethan open, before dipping forward and lapping with his tongue over the furl of muscle. Ethan let out a string of inventive curses, and Benji took that as a sign of encouragement, letting his mouth and tongue make love to the perfect pucker, tasting the salty musk of essential Ethan, loving the way the muscle gave way under the onslaught of his tongue. It was dirty and wonderful and he couldn’t wait to replace his tongue, now slowly and surely invading Ethan’s body, with his currently rock-hard cock.

“Oh my God, Benji,” Ethan’s voice was raspy and broken, and Benji eased off. “Fuck, I—“

“Shhh.” Benji stroked his back from his neck to his sacrum, feeling his lover quiver under his touch. “Are you ready?”

“So ready.” Ethan shuddered. “I need you.”

Benji loved hearing that phrase from Ethan’s lips. He quickly donned the condom, and used the lube liberally on both the hard length of his erection and with his fingers to make Ethan’s now loose and pliable hole nice and wet.

“Is like this okay?” he whispered as he lined up his cock with Ethan’s entrance.

“Actually—" Ethan flipped over in a second, and spread his legs open and up, presenting to Benji face up.

Benji groaned, leaned over and kissed him, messy and wet, and then realigned their bodies so that when he finally pushed past the breach of Ethan’s body, their gazes were locked, Benji had Ethan boxed in between his arms, and Ethan’s hands were on Benji’s waist, guiding him, setting the pace as he slid all the way in.

“Fuck,” Benji breathed.

“Yes, please,” Ethan urged.

And then it was just motion and pleasure and electricity zinging between them as the pressure built and Benji’s hips snapped forward and back, over and over again. He tried a few different angles until Ethan stiffened and cried out especially loudly and he knew he’d found his prostate. Then Ethan grabbed the lube and coated a hand with it, then reached down to stroke himself as Benji sped up.

“Fuck, baby. I’m close,” Ethan gritted out. Benji heard the endearment and couldn’t help himself. The orgasm tore through him and he shouted Ethan’s name as his pumped himself deep and dry. A few seconds later he heard Ethan’s shout and felt the warm spread of liquid as some of Ethan’s come landed on his belly. It took a moment for Benji’s head to clear, to process the bone-deep pleasure of his orgasm, to notice the blissed-out expression on Ethan’s face, his tiny smile, the heavy breathing as if they’d both just run a mile flat-out.

He slowly pulled out, bringing the condom with him, and disposing it over the side of the bed. He’d deal with it later. He collapsed next to Ethan who turned on his side to face him.

“You’re a fucking mess,” Benji noted absently, dragging a finger through the come on Ethan’s six-pack.

“I feel fucking fantastic,” Ethan said. He grinned and Benji felt a little lightheaded. He was never going to get used to that million-dollar smile directed at him.

“You are fantastic at fucking, that’s for sure.”

“That makes two of us,” Ethan murmured.

“Two of us,” Benji echoed. There were two of them now. Just a couple of guys. A couple of spies. A couple of fools in love. What more could he ask for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Glad to be able to contribute a little something to the Benji/Ethan body of work.


End file.
